Justice For All?
by Lady Feylene
Summary: Peter Pettigrew comes to trial, but a smooth talking lawyer is convinced he can get the traitor to walk free...
1. Default Chapter

  
  
  
  


Disclaimer: None of the HP characters are mine. No money is being made off of this.  
  


Warning: Some harsh language, and mildly disturbing imagery.  
  


Dedication: This is for Judy, for taking me out and being my best friend for all these years.  
  


Author's Note: This is just a neat little story I came up with. It's going to be rather large, but I didn't want to write the whole thing if no one wanted to read it. :-) Let me know what you think!  
  


And Justice for All...?  
  


It would be the trial of the century. Covered by every major wizarding paper in the world, every wireless station, would be covering it. There wouldn't be a household in the entire magical community that wouldn't be following it.  
  


The trial of Peter Pettigrew.  
  


Even now, before the trial, the ministry and community alike were abuzz. Pettigrew had turned himself in, much to the surprise of the world-who had thought him dead. He confessed, and the evidence against him-once presented-left no doubt in anyone's mind that he was guilty of crimes formerly attributed to Sirius Black.  
  


Peter himself seemed rather resigned to his fate. He had no money for a lawyer, and didn't see what good one would do anyway. He sat in his small room in Azkaban, realizing that he was looking at the rest of his short existence. He was certainly surprised when, without warning, he had a visitor.  
  


The door of his cell was slid open, and Peter glanced up. He had taken to sitting on his cot and crying. A tall man in dark brown well cut robes slipped into the room, hands in his pockets. He looked to be in his late forties, with greying brown hair and brown eyes. He had a strong, friendly face, and a twinkle in his eyes and at his lips.  
  


"Hello, Mr. Pettigrew." He said, placing a large briefcase on the cot next to Peter. "How are you doing? Not to good, not to worry..."  
  


"Who are you?" Peter asked, sniffling. What was this strange man doing in his cell? Couldn't he just leave Peter to wallow in his own self pity?  
  


"Lamonte Brecc." He said, glancing over and giving Peter a slick smile.   
  


"Um...what are you doing here?"  
  


"What am I doing here? What am I doing here?" Lamonte laughed. "Peter, I'm your lawyer!"  
  


***  
  


"Lawyer?" Peter frowned, struggling to collect his thoughts. "I...I can't afford a lawyer..."  
  


"Oh, don't worry about it. I took this case on non gratis." Lamonte said, opening his case. "This is the biggest trial our community has seen in...well, I can't remember since when. And I'd be an idiot to let the chance to be a part of it go by..."  
  


"Oh." Peter nodded, feeling very tired. He hated it here, but he had little choice. He was a criminal, one facing the maximum penalty of the law.   
  


"Don't look so sad, Pete." Lamonte said, pulling out a handful of documents. "You're going to walk away from this a free man."  
  


"No I'm not, and don't call me Pete." Peter turned his head away from the older man, deciding he didn't like him at all. Lamonte was pompous and condescending.  
  


"I've never lost a case, and I don't intend to start." Lamonte said, snapping his fingers. "Over here, Pete, you've got to focus. Now I can get you off, but I can't do it myself. You have to help."  
  


"How?" Peter sighed, turning rather vacant green eyes on his lawyer.  
  


"You have to be honest with me. Completely and totally honest with me. I've heard your confession, and Pete my little friend, it leaves a lot of unanswered questions."  
  


"Oh?" He honestly couldn't even remember his confession. Everything was a bit of a blur. He had been confused and disoriented.   
  


"You said you did it...you turned in the Potters. And that you killed all those muggles and faked your own death. That's all. I want to know *why*."  
  


"Why?" Peter folded his arms. Why did Lamonte need to know why had done everything? That was his business, not this smooth talking lawyers.  
  


"Look...I can find any loophole, any technicality in the law. But I need something to work with. I need to know what goes on in that twisted little head of yours..." Lamonte kneeled down, still grinning like an idiot. "I know you don't want to lose this case, Pete..."  
  


"Peter, and of course I don't." Peter sighed. It was his only chance. And it was a chance! He sighed, and decided that he had better do as he was asked.  
  


"Why did I do it?" Peter gave a bitter little laugh. "I don't know. I don't remember. I guess...I guess I thought it was a good idea at the time. I didn't think he was going to kill them. And...what was I supposed to do?" He stood up, and began pacing. "He would have killed me."  
  


"So...technically, it was self defense." Lamonte said. "But we need to go back further...why did you join the Death Eaters? What made you go over to the Dark Lord?"  
  


"I don't know." Peter shrugged, leaning against the wall. "I just...I was in a bad place in my life. And it wasn't really my choice."  
  


"You were coerced?"  
  


"Sort of." Peter closed his eyes, forcing himself to remember. "They threatened me. Bullied me into it. And I didn't start out really doing anything *bad*. Just little things, stupid things really. Running errands and stuff like that. I hardly ever talked to James anymore...  
  


"Then...Voldemort was really good at getting people to do what he wanted. He could get into your head, and figure out what made you tick. Some people needed to be rewarded, and some people needed to be punished."  
  


"And you?" Lamonte urged, writing everything down.  
  


"A little bit of both." Peter shrugged. "Mostly punishment."  
  


"So you were beaten?" Lamonte questioned.  
  


"Yeah." Peter nodded, then shut off completely. "And they made me their Secret Keeper, and I turned them in, and they were killed. That's what happened."  
  


"There's more to it then that, I can tell." Lamonte sat down, crossing his arms and regarding Peter closely.   
  


"There isn't." Peter snapped. "Now go away."  
  


"No." Lamonte shook his head. "If you want to save your arse, then you're going to have to give me more then that."  
  


"There isn't any more!" Peter whirled on him, breathing quickly. He wanted this man gone. "Why can't you just leave me alone! I turned myself in! If I wanted a lawyer that bad, I could've gotten one. Do you see where this is going?"  
  


"You don't want a lawyer. Sorry, but you've got one. And I'm going to defend you. We need to make them feel bad for you. You were lost, confused, easily led...they tricked you..."  
  


"Not really." Peter said, turning his attention to more interesting things. Like the wall. "I mean...I knew what I was doing."  
  


"But you weren't doing it of your own free will...no, don't say you were. Coercion is not your own will. You were forced. We've got some defense right there. I can work with this Pete, I really can..."  
  


"Fine. Now go away." Didn't this stupid lawyer realize that Peter had turned himself in for a reason? He had *known* that he wouldn't get off. He wasn't expecting too, he didn't want to! If he got off, they'd just come for him. At least this way he was going out on his own terms. And Sirius would be pardoned.   
  


"All right, all right, I can take a hint." Lamonte held up his hands, looking slightly offended. "I can tell when I'm not wanted."   
  


"Good." Peter sighed, watching as Lamonte packed up his things and began leaving the cell.   
  


"But look...this is going to take a lot of work." The lawyer had a serious expression on his face. "You have to help me. You can't *really* want to be found guilty? Who knows what they'll do to you now...."  
  


Peter didn't say anything, just looked away until Lamonte was gone. He sat back down on his cot, not paying much attention to the screaming that was going on down the hallway. It would be feeding time in an hour or so...at least by Peter's reckoning. He tried hard to keep track of time. Even now, Azkaban was still dark and cold.  
  


"He can't get me off." Peter also tended to talk to himself. It helped him stay as sane as he could. "No one can. I confessed. I turned myself in. He thinks he's so smart..."  
  


But he *had* sounded completely sure of himself. What if the lawyer could get him off? Then what? He'd just be sitting around until Voldemort came and picked him off. That was all the stupid lawyer was saving him for. A slow, painful death.   
  


"Wonderful. And here I was thinking: I'm in Azkaban, waiting to receive whatever ultimate punishment they can come up with. Things can't get any worse! Boy was I wrong..."  
  


He lay down on his cot, curling up on himself. They had done something to him so he couldn't transform. "Stupid lawyer. He's wasting his time. At least I get to be his first lost case..."  
  


That was a rather better thought then most that ran round Peter's head. At least the stupid lawyer was mildly amusing...  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  


TBC


	2. Chapter Two

  
  
  
  


Dedication: To everyone who reviewed!  
  


Author's Note: Doesn't one love the legal system? Isn't it a wonderful twisty little thing? See how it can be bent and warped to aide whoever's using it? See how he has nothing up his sleeve, nothing under his hat...  
  


Justice for All....?

Chapter Two  
  
  
  


Lamonte Brecc left Peter alone for all of a day. The prisoner had thought that the laweyr would most likely wander away, or lose interest, or find a better case. But obviously he hadn't.  
  


"Hey there Pete, got some good news for you."  
  


"Don't call me Pete." But it was said rather half heartedly. At this point it didn't matter all that much. "What's your good news?"  
  


"You're moving out of here."  
  


"What?" That caught Peter's attention. How had Brecc managed that?  
  


"These are unfit conditions. You're suffering from severe mental anguish and emotional trauma. You won't even be fit to stand trial if you aren't moved to better conditions. What sort of animals are they, keeping you here...? And so on and so on. It's all just big words and an official tone."  
  


"Oh." Peter shrugged, not really caring how it had been done, just that it had been done. And if Brecc had managed to get him out of Azkaban, maybe there was a chance that he could win is trial. Maybe. A slim chance. But a chance.  
  


"Come on then, we're getting you out of here."  
  


Peter was in a bit of a daze as Brecc led him out, and he felt his eyes burning as he reemerged into sunlight. It hurt his eyes, and he staggered under it. He wanted to take a moment to be sick, but the stupid lawyer just kept dragging him.  
  


"Where are we going?" Peter finally managed to ask.  
  


"Ministry building. It was the best I could do. They can't exactly release you. You're still in custody, but it's much better then that place."  
  


"Mmm." The ministry building. Well, like the lawyer had said, better the Azkaban. Anything was better then Azkaban. Even without the Dementors. Actually, in his opinion it was worse. Without them, he had access to his good memories again. But he still wanted to cry.  
  


"Here we are."  
  


How had they gotten there so fast? Peter blinked, taking in the white room that he new found himself in. Had he really been in that much of a daze? Apparently so. It was a clean room, with a table and a sink and a clean cot. That was all, but it looked like a palatial suite to Peter.  
  


"Thanks." Peter sat down heavily, feeling very small and out of place and alone.  
  


"Okay. Now, you're trial..."  
  


"I don't want to talk about that." He still had no desire to open up to the lawyer. He just didn't trust him. He was a lawyer.   
  


"You don't have to. I spent all night on your defense. When I'm done, Petey my boy, they're going to pity you like you wouldn't believe."  
  


"I doubt that." He was, he supposed, one of the most hated members of the wizarding world.   
  


"You were abused. You were pushed into a life of ill doing. You were taken advantage of, beaten, threatened and frightened. You had no control over your life anymore. For Merlin's sake, the lowest street dog was given more respect and care then you. Everything you had was taken from you..."  
  


"That's not how it really happened..."  
  


"They don't need to know that!" Brecc slammed his hand down on the table. "They'll believe whatever I tell them. That's the beauty of the judicial system, I have no idea why we ever adopted it. Trial by your peers..."  
  


"How are you going to make them think that?" Peter was doubtful again. And he decided that Petey was worse then Pete. It made him think of a small, annoying dog.  
  


"With lots of big words, official terms, and a raised voice. Hell, they won't know half of what I'm saying, but they'll buy it." He shrugged. "I do it all the time. You have no idea how many Death Eater's I've gotten to walk."  
  


"You won't get me to walk. They'll turn me over to the Dementors."  
  


"Don't think that way Petey, you can't think that way!" Brecc shook him by the shoulders, obviously far more enthusiastic about everything then Peter himself was.  
  


"Okay, fine."  
  


"Now, we just need to work on what you say." Brecc grinned, and Peter had a very bad feeling. He wasn't good at this sort of thing.   
  


"What I say?"  
  


"When you're on trial. We have to have this perfectly rehearsed." Brecc sat down, suddenly all business. "Now...this is what happened..."  
  


Peter spent the next hour being told how his life had gone. None of it was true. Or it was highly exaggerated. But it seemed Brecc had definitely done his homework. He was able to give Peter names that he had forgotten himself. It did sound good, though. A tale of treachery, of Peter being swept away in things beyond his control. A web of lies and smoke and mirrors...  
  


That was all it was. It wasn't real magic, it was muggle magic. Crass and dirty. It was just smoke and mirrors, and hidden strings. It was an illusion. But it was a good illusion.  
  


"And I tell them this?" Peter asked, still a bit skeptical. After all, smoke and mirrors could be spotted if one looked hard enough.   
  


"All of it. Look very very guilty. Not sinister guilty, but ashamed guilty A little kid who was forced to go along with his friends, and was caught by his mother. Be contrite, and repentive. You have to make it real." Brecc had lost a lot of his charm and flash. "You have to believe it, for them to believe it."  
  


"Make myself believe it?" Peter raised an eyebrow.  
  


"Well, it sounds right, doesn't it?" Brecc shrugged. "You didn't mean to do it...you didn't expect things to turn out that way...they did it to you, Peter..."  
  


"Yeah..." He said, slowly. "I was confused..." It did sound about right. Over the top maybe, but right. They all lied. Each and every one of them. And who was he, to stop and pick truth from lies? It hadn't been his fault! And he felt awful about it!   
  


The last part was true, he felt horrible. That was why he turned himself in. And now he was being given a second chance. His reward, perhaps, for turning himself in?   
  


"Now, try and have that memorized." Brecc stood up, eyeing Peter critically. "We'll work more on it tomorrow."  
  


With that he was gone, again. Peter rolled his eyes, and lay down on his cot-far more comfortable then his previous sleep arrangements. He had a lot more to think about now, and quite possibly the mental capacity to do so.  
  


TBC 


	3. Chapter Three

  
  


Dedication: To Tara! More Peter ficcies...though not my usual. 

  
  


Author's Note: I had to go back and change a few things in this story, to make it fit with OotP. I was actually able to, and I'm glad of it. It works better, all things considered.

  
  
  
  


And Justice For All...?

Chapter Three

  
  
  
  


Memorization was *not* something Peter Pettigrew was very good at. Especially under the pressure Brecc was putting on him.

  
  


"Petey, Petey Petey..." Brecc shook his head. "You've got it all *wrong*!"

  
  


"I'm sorry!" Peter snapped, standing up and turning his back on the lawyer. "I'm trying..."

  
  


"Look...let's take it from the top. Who first approached you?"

  
  


"Ian Wilkes." Peter said, sighing. The other man was long dead, and therefor couldn't dispute Peter's accusations. Everyone Peter accused or mentioned was either dead, or long mad in Azkaban. 

  
  


"Good. And how did he approach you?"

  
  


"He...he told me he could help me." Peter said. "He knew I was in a lot of trouble..."

  
  


"What sort of trouble?" Brecc urged.

  
  


"Er..." Peter fumbled. He had forgotten what sort of trouble he was supposedly in. 

  
  


"You were broke Peter, and you had upset the wrong people..." Brecc reminded him.

  
  


"Oh yeah." Peter nodded. He continued on with his story, reciting by rote. 

  
  


"All right." Brecc nodded. "Much better. Just remember...don't be so damn stiff at your trial."

  
  


"I'll try." But Peter had never been a very good actor. Oh, he had his moments, but on the whole... He sighed, sinking back down into his bed. 

  
  


"Don't sound so glum." Brecc said, clapping him on the shoulder. "You're going to walk out of here a free man."

  
  


"Says you."

  
  


"Oh, but I know it for a fact!" Brecc grinned widely. "There aren't too many people who can dispute what you're going to say. They're all dead. Even Black...you have no idea how lucky you are for that..."

  
  


"Shut up!" Peter yelled. He didn't like thinking about that. He didn't like thinking about that at all. But at least Sirius' name would be cleared. 

  
  


"Oh, reached a sore spot, did I?" Brecc said, shrugging. "Just saying you're pretty lucky that no one can come out of the woodwork waving a finger and poking holes in your story."

  
  


"Fine. But don't ever mention *him* to me again." The idiot lawyer wasn't fit enough to walk by Sirius' grave, as far as Peter was concerned.

  
  


"All right I won't...but his name's going to come up at the trial..."

  
  


"That's different." Peter glowered at Brecc. "Are we done?"

  
  


"For now..." The lawyer nodded. "For now. Oh, and I arranged it so you can have visitors. If anyone would want to visit you." Brecc shrugged, gathering his things and leaving Peter to his own thoughts.

  
  


//Visitors. Who would want to visit me?// He sighed, lying down on his bed. He hated this. He hated having to remember all the lies, the parodies of truth. But it was his only chance. Because Brecc was right. No matter how bad he felt, he didn't want to have...well, whatever was going to happen to him. They'd probably just execute him.

  
  


Peter sighed. This was going no where. He wasn't going to get off. He couldn't do this. He just couldn't! He'd try, but they were going to see how stupid it all was. They weren't idiots. 

  
  


//But who's going stand against you?// Peter had to ask himself. Who indeed? There *were* hardly any of them left. If he was careful...if he used his words properly...

  
  


//Maybe.// It was a very tenuous maybe though. His mind was waffling back and forth. He was going to walk away, he was going to die. He was going to go free, he was going to go to the executioner's block.. 

  
  


He threw himself down onto his back, wanting to cry. He wished Brecc had just left him, hadn't even given him this tiny sliver of hope.

//Dumbledore'll want me dead.// And they'd listen to Dumbledore. With everything that's happened-or as Peter understood it-they'd listen to nearly anything the Headmaster told them. Brecc hadn't brought that up yet. He was either ignoring it on purpose, or he didn't think it mattered.

  
  


//He's stupid, if he thinks it doesn't matter.// That was the biggest obstacle Peter could see. But... //He gave *Snape* a chance. Why'm I so different?// It was, in his mind, a damn good argument. Not one he could use in court, but it sounded nice inside his own mind. So maybe there was a chance.

  
  


//There's always a chance.// Peter told himself firmly. And he could do this. He lied to them for nearly a year, he could lie to them for a few hours.

  
  


He went over his story in his mind again, to make sure he got it right...

  
  


~~~~~~~~~~

  
  



End file.
